


Letting Go

by twilightshards



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Clear's Bad End, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightshards/pseuds/twilightshards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am what he wants me to be: a doll with no free will, and I will always submit to his desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> So... I was looking at the Dmmd kink meme for inspiration and found this prompt: 
> 
> 'Clear comes to Aoba's cell, intent on using him just as brutally as he has his previous visits.
> 
> \- I'd like Clear to bind Aoba to the bed/cell bars by his hands  
> \- Clear needs to be very tender and yet cruel (if at all possible)  
> \- Aoba needs to crave the attention just because it's Clear giving it to him'. 
> 
> So this is inspired by that prompt.... I didn't follow it entirely, and the rape-part is not the main focus, but it is there and it's pretty explicit so... be warned for that and the general horrible-ness of Clear's bad end. *weeps* Why can I only seem to write horrible bad end fics for this fandom???
> 
> Also, I only proofread this very quickly so if you spot any mistakes - please let me know!

“Aoba-san.”

Being blind, I can only turn my face in the direction I think his voice is coming from, and I can practically hear the smile on his lips. If I didn’t know better I would perhaps think his voice sounds sweet, but as always there’s that sinister undertone to it, setting him apart from the Clear I had fallen in love with. I tremble as I hear his footsteps approach me, and yet I crave his presence. Being alone with my thoughts is worse. When Clear is here he fills my head only with what he wants me to think about; him and what he’s doing to me. 

“Are you cold, Aoba-san?” he asks as he sinks down behind me, one of his gloved hands stroking my hair away from my shoulders. 

I shake my head, but still I tremble. 

“It’s alright, Aoba-san,” he reassures me, pressing his cold lips to my naked shoulder. “I will warm you up.” 

I know what that means. I hate it, but at the same time… I don’t. Because it’s Clear. I love him. I want him to touch me. I need him to. Without him, I’m nothing. I’m just a crippled, blind prisoner with nothing to live for. He gives meaning to my existence. He thinks I’m beautiful like this. He loves me…

He… did this to me. 

But I can’t hate him. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. So now… I am what he wants me to be: a doll with no free will, and I will always submit to his desires. 

His hands travel down my sickly skinny body, feeling along my potruding ribs and hipbones, and I shiver. I don’t know if it feels good or not. “You’re so beautiful, Aoba-san,” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot against it, as one hand slides down between my legs. 

A small noise leaves me as he takes my limp sex in his hand and squeezes around it. 

“We’re going to try something different today, Aoba-san,” he says, his voice filled to the brim with that dark lust I’ve become so familiar with. A sting of fear sparks in me. He, of course, never asks my opinion. Dolls aren’t meant to have opinions of their own – they must always agree with their master, so I say nothing. 

Whilst he attempts to get my cock to respond I hear him fumbling with something in his pocket. It is then followed by a metallic clang, and it takes a moment before I realise what it is. A pair of handcuffs. He’s never restrained my like that before. There’s never been a need for it, and so I am immediately afraid. Is he going to do something painful to me? 

He must be sensing my fear because he kisses softly along my shoulder and neck, murmuring, “Don’t be afraid, Aoba-san. This won’t hurt.” 

I’m not sure I believe him, but I don’t fight when he turns me around to face him. I wish I could see his face… Suddenly his lips are upon mine, pressing hard and forcing his tongue into my mouth. It’s a rough, possessive kiss that leaves me dizzy and struggling to breathe, and while I’m distracted he grabs one of my wrists and cuffs it to the metal bars I’m always sitting by. My first insinct when I feel the cold metal close around my wrist is to struggle, but Clear is still kissing me and I can’t focus on anything but that. His mouth feels like it’s devouring me, sucking on my tongue so hard it wouldn’t surprise me if it came right off. He doesn’t break away until he’s cuffed my other wrist to another one of the bars. 

“Ah… You look so beautiful. Like a trapped little bird in a cage.” I can’t see it, but I’m sure he’s smiling.

I tug lightly at the cuffs, surprised he was able to find ones small enough to not slip right off of my skinny wrists. Clear makes some sort of disapproving noise as he leans in close again. “No, no, Aoba-san. Don’t struggle. You trust me, don’t you?” 

I still, letting my arms go limp even as the cuffs immediately press uncomfortably into my skin, and nod. 

“Ah, you make me so happy, Aoba-san! I love you,” he says and then he’s suddenly kissing me again. It’s a little less aggressive this time, but it’s just as deep and controlling as before. 

It doesn’t take long before his hand is back down between my legs, playing with my cock in a much more insistent manner. It always takes a while for me to get hard, but he’s patient as he strokes and squeezes and finds every sensitive little place he can exploit to make me flush red with pleasure and shame. Eventually his efforts pay off too, they always do, and I begin to harden in his hand. 

“You feel so hot, Aoba-san,” he breathes into my ear, “Do you like it when I touch you like this?” 

He always asks me that, and I always answer by letting out a little moan. To him, that’s enough. I wonder how he would react if I spoke. If I said yes, or… no. Would he be surprised? Happy? Unhappy? Not that I would ever dare try it… 

Soon I feel two fingers worm their way in between my asscheeks, and I realise I hadn’t even heard him remove his gloves. I tense a little, I can’t help it. This is always unpleasant, but I tell myself to endure it, for Clear. I don’t know what it is he uses for lubrication, but it doesn’t feel as slippery as it probably should, which makes it more difficult for him and more uncomfortable for me. Not that he seems bothered by it. I endure, as always. 

I whimper when the first finger breaches me, and he puts his other hand on one of my stumps as if to soothe me, but it doesn’t help. Maybe he’s just trying to remind me of how helpless I am. As if that’s needed. 

“We have done this so many times now, Aoba-san,” he says, sounding perversly amused, “and yet you are so fussy still. Ah… and tight, too.” He exhales softly, pressing his finger deeper and curling it inside of me. “Humans are so weak, yet so amazing…” 

All I can do is gasp when his finger brushes that spot within me. 

He never wastes much time on preparation, so I’m not surprised when a second finger is pressed into my lightly squirming body, but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. I can’t really call it painful, because I have experienced pain that is so much worse, but the burning pressure as he scissors his fingers is not pleasant in the least. 

Then, I can hear the unmistakable sound of Clear unzipping his trousers. “Mnn… I’m sorry, Aoba-san, but I cannot wait any longer.” 

My chest constricts with fear. He may not waste much time on this part, but I can’t remember the last time he prepared me so little and so carelessly. Is it because I’m in handcuffs? Does he find it such an arousing sight that he can’t help himself? Whatever it is, I can’t do anything but to submit to him as I always do. 

“I’m going to put it in now,” he murmurs, his mouth close to my ear again. He grips at my hip with one hand and I can soon feel the tip of his cock at my entrance. I try to relax. Being tense is just going to make this feel worse, but it’s easier thought than done. In the next moment I feel like I’m about to split in half as he forces himself almost half-way into me in a single brutal thrust. A hoarse, raspy cry of pain leaves me as I clamp down hard around his cock, as if trying to force him out, but it just brings more pain. 

“Nnn, A-Aoba-san… Don’t clamp down so much…” Clear’s voice is breathy and harsh as he grips my other hip and pulls me towards him, down onto his length. It hurts so badly that I can feel something wet run down my eyeless sockets, wetting the blindfold and dripping down my cheeks. The handcuffs dig into my wrists, just adding to the pain I’m already feeling. The pleasured state Clear had managed to coax me into before is vanishing quickly, my cock flagging between my legs. 

None of it seems to bother Clear. He doesn’t stop his brutal assault until he’s buried himself fully into me. Only then does he still, pressing his face against my shoulder and exhales deeply. “Mnn…. Aoba-san… You feel so good around me, so tight and warm,” he murmurs, sounding practically drunk on lust. A raspy sob is all he gets in response from me. He’s not usually this careless with me, and that’s more painful than the actual physical agony. Still, I can’t hate him, or even be angry with him. He’s happy, so I should be too. I wish my arms were free so I could hold him, wrap them around his neck and cling to him, but all I can do is try to relax. 

Finally, he lifts his head from my shoulder and presses his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry, Aoba-san, but seeing you like this… Ah, I couldn’t help myself. I love you so much…” 

I exhale shakily, trying to keep my body from trembling – without any success. The pain is starting to fade into a dull ache, though, which makes it more bearable. 

“I’m going to move now,” he warns, gripping my hips tighter and pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside. It sends a jolt of pain up my spine and I tense, clamping down hard on him again. I try to relax, to loosen up, for his sake, but I can’t. 

“Does it feel good, Aoba-san?” he whispers into my ear as his tongue comes out to lick the shell of it. He may be crazy, but he’s not stupid. He can’t possibly think that this feels good for me, but I nod anyway. Anything to please him, to make him happy. I don’t want him to be angry or sad or upset. I already caused him so much pain… 

His thrusts gradually get slower and deeper, as he seems to be regaining some sort of control over himself. I feel his hand around my cock again, and I feel ashamed that it’s gone completely limp. Now he has to work me up again, all because he wants to bring me pleasure too. “Ah…” he murmurs, and I can’t place the tone in his voice. He sounds somewhere between disappointed, surprised and maybe a little… guilty? 

His movements come to an almost complete halt as he pants softly and strokes my cock gently. It makes something in my chest feel tight and constricting and suddenly I just want to cry again. I keep it in though. I don’t want him to be sad, too. 

It seems to take even longer this time, but my cock does start to respond to Clear’s effort eventually, but there’s no real pleasure for me. I just feel sort of detached from the moment, and it’s troubling. I want to be here, with Clear, being consumed by him. He’s all I’ve got, he’s my whole world. I’m so afraid of slipping away entirely, but without my arms or legs I can’t anchor myself by clinging to him. All I can do is half-sit, half-lay there and let him do whatever he pleases to my body. 

His thrusting starts to pick up again, his hands tightening on my hips, and it doesn’t feel so much like he’s having sex with me as it feels as though he’s just using my body to masturbate with. It’s a miserable feeling, but I endure. He’s still stroking me, trying to bring me to orgasm along with him, and suddenly I just want this to be over with. At the same time, I don’t. Because as soon as this is over then he will leave and I will be alone again. 

I feel myself growing harder in his hand, but it’s like an out of body experience. It doesn’t fully register that it’s me it’s happening to. I’m slipping… A particuarily well-aimed thrust causes my body to seize up and I’m briefly overwhelmed by a rush of pleasure. 

“A-Aoba-san…!” Clear gasps and grinds his cock into the same spot he just hit, causing me to whimper softly.

He’s panting into my ear, whispering about how good I feel, how beautiful I am, how much he loves me… At this point it just makes me feel horrible inside, and it’s a miracle I’ve not started to cry again. This could have been so different… but I try not to think about that. It’s too late for regrets. I’ve caused this, and I have to live with this new Clear. This new Clear who still loves me, despite everything. 

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I’m taken by complete surprise when my body suddenly tenses to an incredible degree and I feel the tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm. I tighten around Clear, my breath hitching as pleasure pools in my stomach – only to be released seconds later. Clear isn’t far behind, moaning my name into my ear as he too comes. I feel him fill me up, and while it’s sticky and kind of disgusting – it also gives me a warm feeling of being connected to him. 

“Mnn, ah… haah… Aoba-san,” he breathes, rubbing his hands up the insides of my thighs. “T-That was incredible. You are so amazing, Aoba-san.” I just moan weakly in response and he seems satisified enough with that. I hear some rustling and moments later I feel him using a towel to clean me up. 

Once he’s finished he separetes from my sweaty body and starts to stand up. I feel sort of panicked and choked up. I don’t want him to leave… At any other time I would have clung to him with my arms, tried to hold him there with me, until he would peel them away from around his neck and placate me with gentle words and soothing caresses, but this time I can’t do even that. 

“I have to go now,” he says, stroking a hand over my hair as I can hear him zipping himself up with his other. “I will be back tomorrow morning, Aoba-san. I love you.” He leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head as I fight to keep the tears away. 

I feel even more miserable when he doesn’t even uncuff me, and instead leaves me like that. My non-existant eyes try to follow the sound of his footsteps as he walks towards the door, where he suddenly stops. I can tell he’s turned my way by how his voice sounds when he speaks again. 

“Aoba-san. This was a bit of an experiment, to see if I am ready to part with your arms yet…” He pauses as if for effect, and I feel ill. “Be brave for me, because tomorrow they will be removed. Don’t be afraid, Aoba-san. Soon you will be perfect, and you will see that all of this has been worth it.” It sounds like his voice is trembling a little with that last sentence, but I could just be imagining it. Wishful thinking maybe. 

With those words, he leaves me alone – my head swimming with new, horrible thoughts of what the morning will bring.


End file.
